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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831121">We Could, If You'd Let Us - ASoIaF Rarepair Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanso/pseuds/Nanso'>Nanso</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Prompt Fill, Rare Pairings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:07:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanso/pseuds/Nanso</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots/short fics of ASoIaF rarepairs - from Tumblr asks/prompts and the weird parts of my brain</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asha Greyjoy/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Ashara Dayne/Elia Martell, Doran Martell/Rhaella Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Doran/Rhaella</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompted by @wingsonthenight: How about some Doran/Rhaella where she's not forced to marry Aerys?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just some drabbles of my favorite kind of fanfiction - rarepairssssss hollaaaaa.  Hit me up on tumblr (@nanso) with a prompt if you like (though I can't always promise timeliness)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the woods witch comes to court, Rhaella barely hears anything beyond the words that matter the most. </p><p>The rest is all nearly a blur. In a flash, she imagines a marriage that is cold and lifeless. Like the stone dragons that surround them in this suffocating hall full of courtly farce. </p><p>But perhaps luck is on her side that day. For her namesake has come for a visit.  </p><p>And as Rhaelle Targaryen tells the young princess - she will be damned before she sees her sweet niece tossed into the fire because of prophecy and grandeur. </p><p>“I was a girl then, I could not say no,” the Targaryen princess of the stormlands tells the king - her father and Rhaella’s grandfather. “Neither can my niece. And apparently you lack the will to do so as well, father. So I will say it for you both.”  She pauses and Rhaella wonders if all the air has left the room right then. “You will not marry her to her brother. No more of this. No more madness.” </p><p>Rhaella spends the rest of the day tied to her aunt’s side, while her parents look at their sister with a mixture of shame and anger. And it’s later that night when they are at a lovely feast that Rhaella sees a smile cross her aunt's lips. So she lets her eyes follow the gaze of the fearsome stormy dragon princess until they arrive at...another princess. </p><p>This one of Dorne. </p><p>“Loreza,” Rhaelle says with a sly smile and a bowing nod. </p><p>“Rhaelle,” the Dornish princess answers in kind. </p><p>“It is fortuitous to see you. I had been meaning to overstep my bounds and write to ask if a visit to the Water Gardens could be arranged?” </p><p>The dark-haired woman eyes Rhaelle carefully and with a curious glint in her eyes, one hand idly playing with the beautiful gold necklace around her neck. “The Water Gardens are a beautiful sight. And we are family, are we not?” </p><p>Then her aunt turns around and looks straight at her. “I think my niece might benefit from a small journey as well.” And when her eyes shift to the throne, her tone shifts and is harder and more steadfast. </p><p>“The king will agree. I shall ensure that.”</p><p>A fortnight later Rhaella finds herself in a wheelhouse with her aunt and the Princess of Dorne, tumbling south towards Dorne. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She’s gone back and forth between Dorne and King’s Landing for the past few years, slowly letting the sun and fruit and air of the south become part of her. </p><p>And Rhaella loves it. <em> It is freedom and breathing and, oh - </em> </p><p>“Rhaella?” His soft voice rouses her from her thoughts. She looks up from where she sits, underneath the shade of the blood orange tree.  Doran walks to her with a curious glint in his eyes, stopping to pluck an orange from a dawdling branch.  </p><p>“You are deep in your thoughts, my love,” he observes, beginning to peel the fruit with a swift grace that she loves to watch.  He’s wearing a tunic spun from the loveliest and softest yellow thread. One that she had made for him. When it was finished, she’d attempted to put her sparing skill with the needle to use and sew their initials into each sleeve. When she gave it to him, the prince traced the letters gingerly for moment after moment, and Rhaella knew he must have thought her a fool for such folly with no talent. </p><p>But instead, he had said, “I’m trusting you to make sure that I may always be able to fit into this garment, princess. For it will not do if I cannot wear it for many years to come.” </p><p>When she went to bed that night, she sent a small prayer of thanks to her aunt. Rhaella had lost count of how many she had sent at that point. </p><p>Often when the princess went back to visit her family, she waited - no, she dreaded the possible reversal of her fate and being forced to wed her brother. </p><p>But it did not come to pass. Perhaps all her prayers to the Seven had been heard. </p><p>Or perhaps her aunt was just terrifying enough to stave off such horror. </p><p>Now they are only weeks away from finally being wed and the second Targaryen princess to be join Dorne and its prince wonders why the gods let time pass so slowly. </p><p>Rhaella rises from the grass, smoothing the purple silk of her dress and smiling as Doran offers her the first slice. He always does, of course. </p><p>“Well?” he asks. Somehow, even as young as he still is at sixteen, even when she can hear the hint of eagerness in his voice, he still sounds wise. It frustrates her because it makes her want him even more somehow. </p><p>A bite and a content sigh. “Sweet,” she answers and when a bit of juice trickles down her lips, he brushes it away with his thumb. “Perfect.” </p><p>“It is,” he concurs as he tastes the juice. “Not overly ripe, nor immature. It is just as it should be.” </p><p>This prince of hers has been slow and patient, even when she wishes for him to be quicker, more impulsive. </p><p>And she has been patient too. </p><p>But, well... </p><p>Tossing her silver hair over her shoulder, Rhaella slowly encircles her arms around Doran’s shoulders, inclining her head to look up at him. And if she draws him closer all the while...</p><p>So be it. </p><p>Their breath mingles and it's sweet and sharp and persuasive, just like the orange slice. </p><p>“Will it always feel like this?” she whispers, her lips nearly brushing against his. <em> His patience and absurd will are utterly infuriating. </em></p><p>But then she sees how his eyes flit between her own orbs and her lips. </p><p>“Feel like what?” he asks quietly, his voice shaking just a bit. Perhaps she may have won at least a partial victory. </p><p>She brings one hand forward, gently pushing away his dark brown hair from his face so his eyes are clear and for her.  She wants to say like thunder during a sunny day; like running while they lie still. But instead all she does is caress his cheek and reply, “like this.” </p><p>“If we let it. If we try.” </p><p>“And will you try, my prince?”</p><p>When he finally kisses her, Rhaella thinks she never knew what it felt like before to truly breathe. </p><p>
  <em> Yes, it is freedom and breathing and, oh - </em>
</p><p>It is living. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ashara/Elia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompted by @Xoxoctic: Ashara/Elia - Modern AU, Fake Dating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ashara watches as her brother's friend picks up Elia’s hand and places a kiss on her fingers gently. </p><p>It's absurd.</p><p><em>What century does he think this is??</em> They’re in a coffee shop, not at a renaissance fair. </p><p>It's absurd - and ridiculous.</p><p><em>Alright, maybe it could be a little romantic. </em>But she still hates it. </p><p>When the silver-haired fool finally walks away, Elia comes back to their table. "What was that about?" Ashara asks her, trying to casually sip her coffee.</p><p>Elia’s cheeks puff up before letting out a tired breath that makes her dark curls fly up. "Nothing, it’s stupid." Ashara’s eyes are skeptical now, and so Elia relents with a sigh. “He asked me out.”</p><p>Her stomach twists at the thought. "And? What did you say?"</p><p>"I said I would think about it."</p><p>She has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Elia is too smart to fall for someone as ridiculous as Rhaegar. <em>Isn’t she? </em>The only thing that gives Ashara pause is that her friend isn’t actually mooning over the ballad-crooning idiot like most girls do. “You don’t seem that excited the prospect?” </p><p>Elia’s first answer is a small shrug. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He’s not bad looking, I suppose, and our mothers are friends too…”</p><p>“That’s ridiculous,” Ashara scoffs. “You can’t go out with someone because your mothers are friends.” Of course Elia is too nice to say no, she hates hurting anyone’s feelings. Then an idea comes to Ashara. “We could pretend we're dating.” </p><p>That makes Elia snort in laughter. “What?” </p><p>“Tell him you and I just started seeing each other,” Ashara explains. “Then he probably won’t keep trying at least.” </p><p>“How do you know that?” her friend asks her skeptically. </p><p>“Trust me,” Ashara assures her. “He's the kind of guy who doesn’t understands anything outside what works for him. Him having to deal with this,” she gestures between the two of them, “will be worth it.” </p><p>Elia nods her head side to side as she considers it. “I can see that. And I’d rather not be lumped into the lot of idiots that think he’s some kind of god just because he sings and is pretty.” </p><p>Somehow that sends a rush of warmth through Ashara. </p><p>But it’s best not to dwell on that. </p><p>Then she remembers something. “Plus Rhaegar loves Coldplay. Whenever he hangs out with Arthur, he’s always listening to them, says they’re the best band around. You can’t date someone with bad music taste.” </p><p>Elia tilts her head to the side, studying Ashara like a puzzle. And for some reason, it’s completely unnerving. After a few moments, she finally asks, "And how do you propose we convince him of...<em>‘this’</em>?</p><p>Ashara’s cheeks burst into flames. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’d meant it as a joke, as a way to make fun of Rhaegar really. </p><p>That’s all Ashara meant it to be - or so she told herself, even if she knew <em>that</em> was the true joke. </p><p>But the month of pretend dating has quickly morphed into something real - or at least it felt real. Because nothing felt as right as sitting next to Elia and watching her friend laugh with abandon. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to let those easy moments of joy turn into ones of small intimacy. Brushing Elia’s hair behind her ear and placing a kiss on her cheek. </p><p>Eventually the kisses drifted to each other’s lips. </p><p>“Is this what you thought would happen when you proposed we pretend to date?” Elia asks her the first time they kiss - the first time when it is not for anyone but them. </p><p>Ashara could deny it, say it never crossed her mind. But she can’t lie anymore.  “I think it’s what I always wanted.” </p><p>And for once, she is able to render a Martell speechless. </p><p>“Well,” Elia finally says in a whisper, cupping her face gently. “I’m glad it wasn’t just me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Asha/Rhaenys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompted by @beckyblueeyes: Rhaenys/Asha, “the pirate who stole the princess”</p><p>Set in a vague AU of Rhaenys surviving in a canon timeline, she and Daenerys helping to battle the Others and rebuild the realm afterwards.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a modest feast. But after the war, after...everything...finding a way to remind them that they had lived felt necessary.</p><p>“Take me on a trip,” Rhaenys said to Asha. It would have been better described as a command perhaps.</p><p>“A trip?” her companion asked.</p><p>“A trip,” the young queen confirmed, watching as the soft light of the candles dances over the faces throughout the hall. Everyone was still somber. So many lives had been lost - not just in the war against the Others, but over the past few years. But the cloud of grief and tension was gradually lifting so that light could shine through once more.</p><p>The black-haired woman looked at the queen incredulously. “What are you talking about? You can’t go on a trip now. You’re the bloody queen.”</p><p>Rhaenys placed her cup of Dornish red on the table with a sigh. “Which is precisely why I may do as I please.”</p><p>“Are you mad? I have not known you long, your grace, but your entire focus since the battle against the Others has been rebuilding, has been the realm. Now suddenly you want to play the rebellious child?”</p><p>Rhaenys looked away then, watching as couples twirled about on the dance floor. “I...just want to know one brief moment….”</p><p>Asha urged her on with her eyes. “A moment…?</p><p>“I will marry, I will have children, an heir. I will rule. And to say it will not be easy would be an insult to my own intellect. I am a woman, I look Dornish and I was raised between Essos and Dorne. If the realm was not so decimated, I would not be sitting here, my lady.”</p><p>A bit of realization crept in. “I know the challenges you face, Rhaenys,” she said gently.</p><p>“It will be hard,” Rhaenys reiterated with a short nod. “And I will fight for my family and to rebuild the realm - even if all I want is to retreat to Dorne and live with my family, free of the troubles that the bloody throne and men always bring.” Then she took Asha’s hand, gentle but firm, lowering her voice just so. “And I know you will not stay here.”</p><p>Asha fought back a wince, knowing it was the truth. “This is not my place. I do not belong here.”</p><p>“I know,” the queen whispered. “I would never ask that of you. You belong on the sea, fighting, laughing.” Their eyes met. “Living as you love.”</p><p>This was never supposed to happen. But when they had met in the north and fought together, it was nearly impossible to fight the draw to one another. And when it felt like the world would end soon, why would they not try to spend what moments they could together?</p><p>And then they won. And the rush of war faded and the harsh reality of rebuilding normalcy began to settle in.</p><p>But perhaps it was possible to make their small dream last - even if only for a bit longer.</p><p>Downing the rest of her wine, Asha tossed the glass aside as she stood from her chair and extended her hand to her queen.</p><p>“Well, what are you waiting for?”</p><p>*</p><p>The night was quiet and chilly, and the stars and moon were shining so brightly, the scales of the dragon awaiting them had turned from black to silver.</p><p>“What will you tell them?” Asha asked her.</p><p>“I left a note,” Rhaenys confirmed, patting the dragon affectionately before turning to her. “I wrote that a pirate stole me and I will return within a week's time.”</p><p>“I didn’t steal you! I’m not a wildling!” She knew the queen had grown too fond of them.</p><p>Rhaenys smiled at her then, the wind roiling around them as though it sensed her excitement for what was to come. “You’re right, you did not steal a thing.” And when she took Asha’s hand in her own and placed it above her heart, she made sure the willful woman saw the truth in her eyes.</p><p>“It is given freely and wholly.”</p>
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